


To Peace and Those Who Get in the Way of It

by mondsters



Category: Fleabag (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:27:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24068836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mondsters/pseuds/mondsters
Summary: Months after the death of their mother, they find themselves in Rome for a spiritual pilgrimage.How does spilled gelato help two people find clarity in their future?(non-canon timeline) She meets the priest before he's ordained. But does that make him second guess his path to priesthood?
Relationships: Fleabag/Priest (Fleabag)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	To Peace and Those Who Get in the Way of It

**Author's Note:**

> I thought of this while i was showering the other day and since i have nothing better to do due to this quarantine, I thought it would be a nice change of pace from my other more serious stories.  
> Just a little forewarning: this is not canon! Not entirely sure if it’s an AU (i think it is???) either but basically the timeline is set just after their mom had died and doesn’t follow canon. I’ll be taking creative liberties since i wrote this mostly for fun.  
> I do hope you still enjoy this little story though.

To say that it was a hot day would have been an understatement. The day they arrived, it was the hottest day of the summer in Rome, and for two english women, this meant they were in hell. 

It had been a couple of days since then, and the weather was not letting up. She was sweating profusely as she tried to follow what their tour leader was saying about Italian architecture, but she could hardly give two shits about columns during the renaissance when her top was so drenched it was nearly see through. 

“I don’t think it was the best idea to wear a black bra with a white top today.” She mutters to Claire, who was equally uncomfortable yet pulled it off without looking like a waterlogged cat.

They laugh under their breath as to not get the attention of their prefect-like tour director. They had already been reprimanded twice that day and were warned that any more disruptions would be reported to their father, who was already dealing with enough at the moment. 

Their mother had been buried not three months when he announced that he had signed them up to a spiritual retreat in Italy. The idea was obviously not from him, but came highly recommended by their godmother, who was a comfort during the funeral, but just refused to go away at this point.

“I can’t believe I was forced into this. There’s a big project that I was supposed to oversee, but instead I’m sweating bullets in Rome.” Claire mumbles.

“Well, would you rather be sweating bullets in London?” she replies.

“I’d rather not be sweating at all, thank you very much.”

“I’d rather be sweating under an Italian man.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about it even once since we’ve been here.”

“I’m married. And last time I heard, you had a boyfriend.”

“Oh, Harry and I broke up.”

“Good God, not again. What was the reason this time?”

“House needed a little spiffing up and I couldn’t do long distance.”

“We’re here for two weeks.”

“Yeah, but Harry doesn’t need to know that.”

“That's just horrible.” Claire chuckles but stops as soon as she catches the gaze of the tour director.

They remain quiet until the end of the tour and were given free time to roam around until dinner. They sneak away before they’re be reprimanded a third time.

Walking a safe few hundred meters away from the rest of the group, they decide to go through the tourist filled streets to buy souvenirs to bring back home. Claire, being the person she is, decided to to bring it upon herself to cross reference prices among the stores they went into. 

By the fifth store, she was just about ready to give up and let the sun or exhaustion take her. Whichever came first. But Claire was still raring to go with no sign of stopping any time soon.

“Hey, I’ll just have a look around, if you’re all right here.” She says and is met with a wave of Claire’s hand while in the middle of haggling for a ceramic vase. “All right, see you later, then.”

Rome was beautiful. The faint yellow hue that sun enveloped every corner of the eternal city. History seemed to live on with how every bit and piece was so well preserved and taken care of, how it withstood every great event that has come to pass. And here it all was. Still standing, still beautiful. 

If it was possible to be jealous of a city, she was. Though the pilgrimage part annoyed her to no end, getting the chance to leave London, even for a fortnight, was taken as a blessing. She couldn’t breathe back home. She felt like she was going to break down any second. A strong burst of wind could have crumbled her already brittle statute. But here she was, in the middle of one of the oldest civilizations to have existed, still standing. A testament to strength that she could only wish she had.

Whether it was the heat or her own inner turmoil, she suddenly felt her throat constrain. She sought refuge in a nearby gelato store that, thankfully, had air conditioning. It wasn’t as crowded as an airconditioned store could have been during a hot day, but she still found herself wedged in line to order.

Her head was spinning; the heat and close proximity to others wasn’t helping. 

“... But you don’t understand! I can only find this color in Italy!” She hears the man behind her say rather loudly on his phone. 

“Flavor?” The cashier asks. 

“Sorry, what?” Her mind felt like it was lagging and only realized it when she was asked again.

“What flavor?” He asks a second time.

“Oh,” She tries to skim through the menu board overhead, but her eyes refuse to focus.

“Proper plum! You can’t get this anywhere else.” The voice behind her yells, causing her head to throb even more.

“Uh, just- just chocolate is fine.” She finally manages.

The cashier looks at her with concern, but obliges and returns to her with a large scoop of chocolate gelato. 

“H-how much?” She asks after taking the cone, but has difficulty hearing the cashier over the conversation happening behind her. 

“I know I can’t use it for two more years but- yes, well, I am a nerd, so that doesn’t offend me the slightest.” He continues to drone on.

The cashier starts getting impatient and starts speaking italian. 

“I’m sorry I don’t-” She attempts but is too flustered to make sense of what he was saying. 

He continues to impatiently gesture at her. The voice behind her gets louder. She feels the glares of everyone at the store. The people in line muttering about her, the staff rolling their eyes on another _tourist_. It was getting too much.

“Here just take it.” She rummages through her bag and pulls out a five euro bill. 

She tries to finally leave the front of the line to end the whole fiasco when the man behind her takes a step forward colliding directly with her. Her gelato is the only thing breaking their immediate contact.

“Jesus Christ!” He exclaims, then mutters a quick “sorry about that” with an upward gaze.

She stands in shock at the odd man for a moment before she pulls him to the side, grabbing at wads of tissue on the counter. She mutters apologies but she barely understands what was happening in front of her. 

“It’s okay, hey, leave it, it’s all right.” The man says.

“No, y-you weren’t looking where you were going and-” She says, still wiping away on his white shirt.

“ _I_ wasn’t looking where _I_ was going? You could say the same about yourself!”

“You were talking so loudly on your phone, I could hardly hear myself think!”

“Leave it, the damage is done.” He sighs. “Chocolate and a white shirt were never meant to be.”

They look over to the counter and it proceeded taking orders like nothing had happened. If she wasn’t standing there with chocolate gelato smeared all over her (kinky) she would hardly have realized that anything was wrong.

“Oh well,” the man sighs and throws the tissue to the nearest bin, “I can get gelato later today.”

He heads for the door, not thinking twice about the woman who had cause his current gelato-less state, and makes his way to his hotel. He walks a few meters, all the while still attempting to remove even a smidge of ice cream from his shirt, when he realizes that he has a shadow following him. 

It was the girl from the gelato shop.

She wasn’t directly looking at him, she actually looked quite lost. But she was walking the same direction as he was. With every turn he made, she would follow suit. He tried to lose her by taking a few different turns into small alleys, but whenever he thought she was gone, he’d see her again right behind him. 

He was a few hundred meters to his hotel when he sees that she’s still following him. He’s had enough. He stops in his tracks and turns around. This surprises her and she stops too, looking at him with familiarity but she can’t quite place it right away. 

“Have you been following me?” He accuses.

“Following? I-” She starts but is cut off.

“I’ve noticed you following me since the gelato place.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about! I was just headed to my hotel when you suddenly attack me!”

“ _Attack?! Me?_ ”

“Yeah, that’s right! I’m a girl walking alone in a foreign country and _you_ come along and start harassing me! What are you, some kind of pervert? Targeting defenseless women on the streets!”

People started looking at them, others walking slowly to see what was happening, some chuckling at an assumed lovers quarrel. It was enough to make his whole face go red.

She was about to lay it on him some more when she hears her name being called.

“There you are!” It was Claire running towards her, “I’d gotten to the hotel and you weren’t there yet. Why weren’t you answering your phone?”

“I got lost.” She replies, still keeping her piercing gaze on the man.

“Who is this?” Claire asks as she notices the tension between them.

“No one. I’m just headed to my hotel.” He says, standing down and puts his hands up to his chest.

“Oh, shall we go together then?” Claire suggests and they make their way to the hotel, tension still thick between them. “The directress has been looking for you.”

“Why what does she want with me?” She asks.

“Not you-” 

“Father!” The directress calls out from the lobby, “We’ve been waiting all day for you!”

She stops dead in her tracks, her eyes wide and her mouth gaping, “ _Father?”_

**Author's Note:**

> gotta be honest, i'm kind of in a little rut with my writing. Which is why i wanted to write something that was a bit away from canon so i'd have more control over it. Sorry in advance if i get things wrong or not well researched. I'm just going with the flow and seeing how it turns out
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this!


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